Page 71 of Surface Scratch
His eyes landed on the mail over hutch by the door, the thin handle of the switchblade Ophelia had initially given him poking out from beneath a smattering of community newspapers. The light weapon felt heavy in his hand, visions of V’s corpse flashing in his mind.
No, you can’t think about that right now. You don’t know what’s on the other side of this door,he told himself. It could be a delivery person, for all he knew.
Or someone from the Society looking to get revenge.
He kept the blade down by his side and placed his hand on the deadbolt, his heart beginning to race. “Who is it?” he called through the door.
“It’s Andrew.”
Relief washed over him. Thank God. He unlocked the door and opened it as he shoved the knife into his back pocket. He didn’t want to have to explain why he had a knife. Andrew smiled at him and held out a grocery bag.
“Since you’re dying of the stomach flu again, I brought you some classic Latino get-well-soon stuff,” he said with a grin.
“Oh wow, thank you.” Caleb’s eyes widened as he took the bag. He hadn’t been expecting that. He’d thought Andrew would be pissed at him for flaking on their yet-to-be-realized plans to hang out. He looked down into the bag as Andrew stepped inside, scanning the variety of teas and spices it was filled with. A small container of mentholated chest rub sat on top of the tea boxes. “Vaporub?”
Andrew snickered. “Yeah, it’s like a magic balm all little Mexican grandmas swear by,” he said.
“What does it do?”
Andrew shrugged. “Fuck if I know, I just know that it makes me feel better when I’m sick. Probably just all in my head.” He paused and leaned toward Caleb, squinting at the collar of his shirt.
Shit.Caleb took a step back and cleared his throat. “I’m cold, I’m going to grab a hoodie,” he said quickly, turning around to head back into the hallway. He gestured toward the couch. “You can just move all that and sit for a while. I know you don’t live close by.”
Why am I so bad at lying?Caleb’s face grew hot as he crouched down to rifle through his laundry basket for something that would hide most of the marks on his neck. He wouldn’t be able to hide the bruising, but the bite marks were what needed immediate covering up.
He pulled a horrible light blue hoodie over his head and tightened the string as he stood up. He quickly turned around and bumped into Andrew, not realizing he had followed him into the hallway. He stepped back and let out a nervous chuckle.
“Sorry about that, I wouldn’t want to get you sick,” he said as he tried to step around him.
The look in Andrew’s eyes was different—harder and colder than he had ever seen it, in spite of the smile on his face. Caleb tried to push away the rising feel of discomfort.
“Did you need to use the bathroom or something? It’s right there.” Caleb gestured to the open door behind him.
Andrew unzipped his coat and glanced around. “I can’t believe you’ve just been holed up here by yourself with no one to help,” he said, his voice softening as he let his coat fall to the ground. “Haven’t you ever just wanted someone around to take care of you?”
This is really weird. Really, really weird. Caleb tried to sidestep him again, but Andrew’s arm shot out in front of him, blocking his path back into the living room.
“I want to talk to you about something important,” he said, his dark eyes flicking down to Caleb’s neck again.
Caleb heard his phone buzz against the countertop in his bathroom. It was probably Marcus. “I should get that,” he said.
Andrew’s other arm pressed against the wall beside him, caging him in. “No, you shouldn’t,” he said. He inched closer, his eyes falling to Caleb’s lips.
“What are you doing?” Caleb asked. He backed up against the wall, trying to put a bit of distance between them. His hand slipped to his back pocket as the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. The look in Andrew’s eyes seemed to be changing by the second, making his face seem darker and meaner—a far cry from what he was used to.
“You know, I tried being subtle because you were so shy when you started at the club, but apparently you’re a little dense because everything went over your head,” Andrew said, shaking his head as he moved closer, his chest pressing against Caleb’s. “So how about we take a more direct approach?”
Caleb gawked at him. “I just thought you were being friendly,” he said. He swallowed hard, desperately trying to control his breathing. The feeling of Andrew pressed up against him was making his skin crawl.
He needed to be careful how he did this, otherwise work would get weird fast. Well, weirder than it already was.
“You know, I’d be really good to you,” Andrew said. He leaned forward and planted a kiss squarely on Caleb’s lips.
Caleb jerked his face away, disgust rising up in him. “What the fuck, Andrew?” he shouted. He tried to knock Andrew’s arm away from the wall, but he didn’t budge. He pressed harder against Caleb, only moving his arm to grab Caleb’s face and hold it still. “Let go!”
“What? Is kissing me really that bad? Or does that sick fuck have your little mind all twisted up?” Andrew grumbled. He slammed Caleb’s head back into the wall. “Is that better? Will you want me more if I treat you like absolute trash? Because I can do that.”
How many concussions can you get in a two-month period before it starts to do permanent damage?
